


Grief Arrives Delayed

by voleuse



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-14
Updated: 2008-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Before you know it, you are another femme fatality.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief Arrives Delayed

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through 3.11. Title and summary adapted from _El Alacrán Güero_ by Sandra Cisneros.

_i. Azula_

Azula didn't remember the first person she killed. Sometimes, she wished she did--it seemed like she should keep track of these things, if only so the palace historians could record her glorious past in accuracy.

Most of the time, however, she didn't care. One life was the same as another, and obstacles were meant to be obliterated.

She knew, however, that she must have been very young. She couldn't remember a time when her mother hadn't looked at her with fear behind her eyes.

_ii. Toph_

Toph knew she scared people sometimes, because she could feel their heartbeats quicken, _thump-thump-thump_, when she turned her face towards them. If they didn't know her, she scowled, because she was blind, not an idiot. She couldn't see into the future, couldn't see into the past, couldn't see into their thoughts.

_thump-thump-thump_

She tapped her toes against the earth, felt the grains shift against her skin. If they knew her, she clapped her hands together, sent a ripple over to them. Made them jump, because it made her laugh.

They knew her, but only a little. Toph waggled her fingers at them, and only the dirt understood her meaning.

_iii. Mai_

Mai learned to play with knives at an early age, because at one point, her nurse told her she shouldn't. They had watched her father's guard drill in the courtyard, and though her nurse had stilled her shivers until they were out of sight, Mai remembered the disgust in her eyes. (She disappeared a few weeks later. Mai never bothered to ask why.) "Stay out of their way, Mai," she had said. "Those blades are dangerous."

Mai snuck into her father's study that evening, her head bowed.

He rifled through the papers on his desk for a long while before looking at her. "Yes?"

She raised her eyes, and her gaze landed on a letter opener, the edge glinting. "I would like to learn how to fight," she murmured.

He stared at her, tapped his fingers against the desk, falling into a slow stutter. He tilted his head. "I think that would be wise," he mused, his voice indistinct.

She began training the next day, and within the month, her father introduced her to the princess.

_iv. Suki_

The iron bit into Suki's wrists every time she struggled. She saved her movements for when the guard brought in her meal, spooned slop into her mouth with a smirk. She swallowed the food because she needed the strength, and she let blood trickle down her palms because they had not broken her.

When the guard disappeared again, she leaned against the wall.

She kept waiting.

_v. Ty Lee_

At night, Ty Lee danced.

Azula and Mai sparred, their expressions matched, though they never spoke their anger. Ty Lee spurned the flame and the blade. She flipped over the boundaries of their fight, pinwheeled past the guards, who faced inward. Azula shouted after her, but Ty Lee escaped--she could disable Azula, but she also knew what would happen after that.

She still had nightmares about it, sometimes.

At night, Ty Lee wandered the corridors of the palace, marveled at the way her feet squeaked against the polished floors. She put her hands against the walls and wished somebody, anybody would smile at her. She wished for music, and the sky.

At night, Ty Lee burrowed into the plush comforter draped over her mattress. She stared up at the rich, red canopy over bed, and she missed living in a tent.

_vi. Katara_

Katara could hear Hama's laughter in her ears, could hear her taunting voice every time she looked at someone with anger, with frustration, with hurt.

She wished she had never met Hama, because before, when she spread her arms, she could feel only water: the rush of underground rivers, the gathering clouds above, and always the thrumming patience of oceans afar. Water was pure song in her mind.

Now, when she opened her hands, she felt sweat underneath her companions' skins, blood wending through their veins. Even the slosh of their bellies, and she swore she would never let them eat soup around her again.

It was so clear to her now, despite her reluctance, and she wondered if Hama had been the first to learn this forbidden art. She wondered if she would dare ask Gran Gran when she next saw her.

Then, Katara moved her thoughts to something else, because the next question was one she didn't dare ask herself.


End file.
